


Lessons in Etiquette

by Soraya (soraya2004), soraya2004



Category: Babylon 5, Babylon 5: Legend of the Rangers
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-21
Updated: 2005-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/Soraya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/soraya2004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A human ranger must learn to cope with Minbari cultural mores</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons in Etiquette

It was like some sort of gelatinous goo. Though, to call it that much would mean it could actually be classed as some type of substance. David had a sneaking suspicion that anything in the 'goo' family would vehemently deny such a relationship. In fact, the longer he stared at its opaque and amorphous form, the more he became convinced that it was mocking him for his ignorance.

Minbari food had a tendency to do that.

There was a very large dollop of the unknown substance at the centre of his plate. Apparently, he was required to eat it, and David wasn't sure that he could. It seemed to wobble at random intervals, completely without prompting, and most alarming of all, it seemed to be getting bigger. Only seconds ago, before he'd turned to grab his cutlery, he could have sworn he'd managed to contain it using a few strategically placed sticks of bread. Now, it appeared to have swallowed the plate's central pattern and was determinedly oozing out toward the edges like some hazardous spill.

In a sudden rush of panic, it occurred to David that he was completely out of his depth. He wasn't trained to handle this; he was terrible in situations, which required tact and diplomacy; and something told him that declining the host's offer of food would be a major offence in Minbari eyes. He let his gaze drift over the sea of faces, watching the other Anla'Shok laugh and mill around and generally ease their way through the latest induction ceremony. Some of them were familiar, most were alien, but all of them were observing, measuring and assessing.

At the Academy, people were rarely what they seemed to be, and everything was a test of some sort; he'd learnt those lessons the hard way. It wasn't that he *liked* causing trouble; trouble just seemed to follow him around, and dealing with a culture so steeped in ritual provided countless opportunities for misunderstanding. He'd already acquired enough notoriety to last him through the rest of officer training. In fact, hardly a single day passed without some Minbari pointing at him and speaking in hushed tones about the flarn incident, and that had happened months ago! One more food fiasco and he would be known forever as *Et'Nishai*.

Scowling at his plate, David noticed that the goo refused to cower or retreat under his glare. Poking and prodding it with his spoon yielded little useful information regarding its origins. So, he scooped up a spoonful, then he turned the spoon upside down, only to stare with total horror as the goo defied all universal laws of physics by slithering up toward his fingers.

For a moment, David thought he was going to be sick. No, there was no way in hell he was going to eat this stuff, he didn't care who he offended. That left him with just three options: he could run; he could fight; or, he could hide.

Running was out of the question. In a crowd of Minbari, he and the three other human recruits stood out effortlessly, and if one of them were to suddenly disappear from a social function, they would be missed and questions would be asked. To fight with his food was beyond ridiculous. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure he could win. So, that left hiding . . ..

David felt a momentary surge of elation when he realised he had a way out. As he let his eyes wander round the room, he found just the perfect spot. He'd almost reached his destination when a fast moving Minbari male intercepted him, appearing as if by magic from behind one of the potted palm trees that lined the path to the temple gardens.

"Anla'Shok," the Minbari said quietly.

"Anla'Shok," David replied, his voice equally quiet. From the subtle bone-crest patterns, it was clear this Minbari was Religious Caste—the absolute worst when it came to inventing rituals and taking offence.

The Minbari stared at him for what seemed to be a very long time. David stared right back, trying very hard not to look like he'd been about to scrape the contents of his plate into one of those potted plants. Yet, the second that thought crossed his mind, the Minbari glanced at his plate, then the potted plants, then back again.

"I see you have chosen to try Sar'Fak'Drala."

"Ah, so that's what it's called," David said. He couldn't be certain, but suddenly it looked like the Minbari was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Indeed, it is one of Minbar's rarest delicacies," the Minbari continued. He took a step closer, giving David a small smile. "We consider it a great honour to serve Sar'Fak'Drala at such a gathering. Though, curiously, few outside the Minbari are brave enough to try it."

That was a challenge if ever David had heard one. Delivered with an apparent lack of guile, complete with fluttering eyelashes and the largest blue eyes he'd ever seen, but it was a challenge nonetheless. And if there was one thing he hated about the Minbari, it was their attitude of superiority. So, David smiled right back before scooping up a spoonful of Sar'Fak'Drala and placing it in his mouth.

Time seemed to shudder to a stop.

It tasted like a mixture of Brussels sprouts and month old rotting chicken, but that wasn't even the worst part. No, the worst part was the texture: cold and slimy, with an underlying hint of dampness. And, when suddenly the food slithered on his tongue, again without any interference from him, that was as much as David could take.

Shuddering, he spat the food onto his plate. "Ugh—I just—I'm sorry," he gasped. The horrible texture lingered on his tongue, so he resorted to using the tip of his fingernail to scrape it off, ignoring the shocked expression on the Minbari's face. "I have *never* tasted anything like that before. I—It's unusual," he finished pathetically.

The Minbari regarded him critically. "Hmmm. Minbari taste buds are significantly more refined than human ones."

David snorted rudely. "That's because you guys have only got about three taste-buds while we've got hundreds."

"Quantity does not always guarantee quality."

David raised an eyebrow, surprised not only by the speed of the response but also by what was a clear insult. Immediately, he shot back with: "At least we have more flavours of food than flarn, more flarn, and—yes, you guessed it—yet more flarn! We humans have a saying: 'variety is the spice of life'!"

"Well, it would seem your hundreds of taste-buds aren't equipped to handle that much variety," the Minbari responded coolly, smirk firmly in place.

"Oh, *really*?" It was clear to David that the Minbari felt he'd won this exchange, and oddly enough, David found himself smirking back. He couldn't believe he was standing in some corner trading insults with his fellow Anla'Shok. He looked down at the Minbari's hands, which were suspiciously free of any type of food. "Well, if your taste-buds are so superior, then why aren't you eating any of that stuff?"

The Minbari gave him what could only be described as a pitying look. "Because, any sensible person knows Sar'Fak'Drala is absolutely revolting."

David blinked at him then he burst out laughing. And while the Minbari didn't join in his laughter, his warm smile was enough to let David know that he'd just made a new friend.

"I'm David, by the way," he said, after he'd calmed down. "David Martel."

"Dulann of Minbar," the Minbari responded, bowing slightly.

"It's good to meet you, Dulann."

"And you, David."

There was a distinct twinkle of mischief in Dulann's eyes, and David couldn't help but wonder what his new friend was up to. He didn't have to wait long.

"David, I see some of your fellow human Anla'Shok have yet to try Sar'Fak'Drala."

"Uh-huh," he said warily.

Dulann gave him a sweet, if slightly predatory smile. "Perhaps we should introduce it to them, as part of a cultural exchange, if you will."

David snorted with laughter. This Minbari had a truly warped sense of humour. He had a feeling they were going to be the best of friends.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Et'Nishai = The Food Beast (used as a derogatory term to denote someone with poor etiquette)


End file.
